


One More Time

by Praegressus



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bagels, Despair, F/M, Fights, Fluff and Crack, Friendship, Gen, Hope, Humor, Introspection, Multi, POV Alternating, Plotty, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:48:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7147178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Praegressus/pseuds/Praegressus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Neo World simulation collapsed... Yet, when Hajime wakes up on that familiar sandy beach, he can't help but wonder if things will be different this time around.</p><p>[Comments and constructive criticism welcome, they carry a 11.037% chance of hastening future chapters.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Big Damn Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first Ao3 fic!  
> Here's a couple of things I think you should know:
> 
> -Constructive criticism and feedback are very welcome.  
> -Not every pairing/grouping is decided. (And I'm open to suggestions)  
> -I'm from a conservative country, so I don't write M/M or F/F since I don't have frame of reference. M/M/F, however, is my jam.  
> -A copy of this fic can be found on Fanfiction.net, under the same pen name, and I'd be ever so grateful if you popped in there to say hi as well!

 

* * *

 

Something is wrong.

It was supposed to be over. Naegi was there, and the real Byakuya... there were enough of us to collapse the Neo World Simulation.

The world went black, as I'd assumed it would, but… it wasn't over. The feeling of dread I've been nursing ever since my arrival on Jabberwock island shot down my spine one more time.

Our future...?

Not yet.

* * *

I open my eyes to a bright blue sky, then close them again immediately from the sheer intensity of the light. I can hear waves beating against the shore…

"Are you okay?"

Those words… no way, this can't be happening.

"You seem pretty out of it… but then again, we all do, with the situation we're in…"

It's Nagito. It's Nagito from our first day of the school trip, still friendly and… well… sane. Not the Nagito that abused his almost unearthly luck to send a friend to die, just because he wanted to punish us all for something we didn't even recall doing at the time.

I don't even realize I've clocked him in the face until he hits the sand.

It's starting all over again. Either they've reset the simulation, or the Monokuma AI managed to find a loophole… I don't know what happened, but this entire ordeal is waiting for me, again.

And I've already messed it up by _punching_ Nagito.

"Uhh…"

He gets up with a groan, rubbing his jaw. The startled expression I'd assume he'd have is completely absent, replaced with a smirk of mild amusement:

"That's not much of an introduction, Hajime…"

I take a step towards the tripod-mounted camera, ready to take it up if defense becomes a necessity, but Nagito seems to be content to just rub at his jaw, not really looking at me anymore.

His voice is back to its normal zealous tone when he speaks: "So tell me… did I win?"

"Really, that's what you're going to ask?"

He shrugs: "Well, I _am_ curious, you know?" the accompanying smile is sickening.

"You…" I sigh, "you almost did it. You almost got everyone. If Chiaki hadn't…"

"Chiaki?" he raises an eyebrow, surprised, "so it _was_ her?"

"Damn it, Nagito, I had to watch you both…"

"Yeah," he says, more quietly, "I know."

"Then why?"

"It didn't end," he began, sitting back down into the sand and gazing, almost longingly, at the water, "It was just one long wait, watching to see whether the ultimate victor would be _hope_ or _despair._ "

Realizing that I won't be breaking Monomi's… or rather, _Usami's_ rules right from the start, I relax just a bit, still keeping the tripod between the two of us.

"So… I just kinda watched, you know? I thought about what I remembered doing from when we were Ultimate Despair, what I thought before the bear showed up, before Grape and Strawberry house…"

He seems to stop talking after that, and I realize he has no intention of doing anything until I make a move – I decide to sit down as well.

"There's about 12 hours before Monokuma shows up, reversing everything this simulation was supposed to do…" I begin, trailing off once I realize the sheer scale of the task I have ahead of me.

"Huh? So it wasn't just a prison?" he cut in, suddenly interested.

"No… it was supposed to be therapy," I reply.

"Therapy? You mean…"

"You figured it out too, didn't you? It's why you wanted only the traitor, the only innocent one, to survive."

Without replying, Nagito turned his head back to the sea, sulking.

"Don't you remember the first day, on the beach? That's how this whole thing is supposed to work; fostering happy memories in order to build up the strength we'd need to face the cruelty we ourselves committed in the real world."

"A chance for redemption, huh?" he concluded.

"Don't you think it's a perfect opportunity for us to give hope… _real hope_ a chance?"

"Hope…" he mused, wistfully, "I did go on about that, didn't I?"

"Yeah," I smirked, "you did."

"And you'd trust me? Even after what you've seen me do?" he wondered, turning to me.

"If you remember as well, there's no other choice I could make. I can't save anyone by myself."

"Can you really undo _that much_ despair? We were monsters, Hajime, masquerading as Ultimates. We literally set fire to civilization."

"But before that, we _were_ the Ultimates, chosen to guide and nurture the _hope_ of humanity."

Nagito was silent for a couple of seconds, as if he was looking for the right words to say:

"Beating him…her… back tonight isn't going to change a thing. We'll end up trying to kill one another regardless – it's who we are."

I smirked, then readied myself to shout:

"No, that's wrong!"

He blinked, tilting his head to the side a bit, then broke out in the widest grin:

"Really? You're going there? Brutal, Hajime, simply brutal…"

I shrugged, feeling myself smiling.

"And pray tell, how exactly do you think we can undo the damage? And that's a _lot_ of damage."

I stood up, walking over to Nagito and offering my hand:

"Together."

He took it, dusting himself off with a wink and a smile:

"Alright then, let's get ourselves introduced."

* * *

I was laying down in the sand, enjoying the sun, when Usami popped in to summon us from our beach activities. Showtime.

Everything hinged on our ability to keep the Monokuma avatar away from Usami's magical stick; whatever that thing is, it'd be enough to nuke the virus AI, supposedly.

We marched to the park, goading people like Nekomaru and Fuyuhiko into a state of readiness, watching with a mix of pride and concern as we manipulated our friends into something akin to a combat frenzy.

Some we had to work harder for, naturally. Sonia wouldn't jump at anyone, and Gundham was too composed to be so easily provoked. Yet, as more and more people got agitated at our 'accidental' musings, so did the less motivated ones among us fall in line with the mob's mentality.

It was unnerving, and yet exhilarating. Even Mikan, terrified of everyone and everything, seemed ready to jump into action, just from the overwhelming aura Nagito and I were whipping up. I began hearing war drums in my mind.

Chiaki kept shooting me strange looks, of course, but she seemed unwilling, or rather, unable, to interfere. Our designated teacher, for all her devotion to love and peace, never saw any of it coming.

Usami was halfway through her panicking when Nagito gave the signal, tackling the headmaster of Hope's Peak Academy:

"WEAPON!"

We collapsed on the black bear like a tide of flesh. It couldn't actually hurt us, and, had we cared, we would've taken sadistic glee in the fact that the tool designed to reintroduce us to despair would be feeling that exact sensation.

Between physical threats like Nekomaru and Akane, technical combatants like Gundham and Peko, and the sheer frame of whoever Byakuya really was, the stuffed bear was kept at bay long enough.

Usami's aimed blast eradicated the Monokuma avatar, and neither Nagito nor I had any doubt that the system was actively partitioning itself to isolate what little control it had over the simulation.

"You… you stopped him…" the 'magical girl' spoke, clearly surprised, "how did you?"

"It looked strange… I'm just glad everyone backed Nagito up," I grinned, trying to hide the unease I was feeling.

"What the hell was that!?" Kazuichi all but screamed, panting in the aftermath of the frenzied lynching of Monokuma.

"An intruder, that's what!" Usami huffed, holding her staff like a banner, "and I hope this is him being gone for good!"

"Are we done with these bullshit surprises now?" Fuyuhiko spoke up, annoyed as usual, "isn't it enough that you dragged us here?"

"Oh c'mon, it's not that bad!" Akane cheered, not even winded, "besides, wailing on that thing was fun!"

"Violence is NOT fun!" Usami shrieked.

"Alright, I guess that's that, then…"

Before anyone could reply, Nagito plucked the staff from our teacher's hand, holding it aimed straight at her:

"Alright, now I have a few questions to ask."

"Nagito!" Mahiru cried out, trying to reach for his new prize, only to be stopped by Byakuya.

"Let's not waste this opportunity."

"Revolt! How could you do something like this to your beloved teacher?" the magical girl cried, rather pathetically.

To be honest, Usami or Monomi, whoever she was, was overall a pathetic figure the first time this simulation was run. It's not that she wasn't trying, but…

Well, if it wasn't for Nagito and Chiaki, odds are we wouldn't have survived. The twisted plan I myself made to reincarnate the Ultimate Despair, Enoshima Junko, would've succeeded, though at the cost of 11 of our classmates' minds – a cost, mind you, that I was more than willing to pay.

But I'm not that person anymore… _this_ is who I want to be, and Hajime Hinata is someone who _can_ save all his friends, rather than doom them to a life of despair.

Each and every person that sacrificed themselves… Gundham and Nekomaru, Chiaki… even Nagito, as crazed as he was…

What Nagito is doing worries me, though. He wouldn't be that crazy again… would he?

"First question, he began, "When are we going to get off this island?"

"When you've gathered enough fragments of hope, of course!"

"No, like, seriously?"

"…"

"What, bear got your tongue?" Nagito smirked.

"That pun was un-bear-able!" a melodic voice spoke up.

"Not helping, Ibuki," Mahiru cut her off.

"Seventy-one days…" the magical bunny sniffled, defeated.

"A nice, long vacation," he concluded, "any way to push that deadline closer?"

"No. Not even I have the power to change that!"

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Other than the fact that you have a gun to her head?" Fuyuhiko offered, apparently entertained by the whole situation.

"Yeah, other than that," he deadpanned.

"I'm your teacher! A role model shouldn't lie because lying is wrong!" she prattled on, oblivious to anyone other than the man with the stick.

"Nagito, I think we should -"

"I've _got_ this, Hajime. Trust me, ok?"

To think that monsters like ourselves are now doing this, trying to ensure that everything happens as it was intended to… it's _hope_.

Not the hope we had by triumphing over whatever despair Junko and Monokuma would throw at us, but rather a hope for a future where we can move on from what we used to be, fix what mistakes we can fix, and actively work to restore the world our own talents torn asunder.

I have to believe in him, just like he's decided to believe in me. If we all pull together, there's no way this can fail.

"Question three. Can you open the rest of the islands? As great as this beach is, I can't help but think there's more to this place."

"Of course! I planned it as a special surprise after our super-special dinner party!"

"Now that you mention being hungry…"

"Shush, you!"

"The name's Akane, pipsqueak."

Ignoring both the dancer and the gymnast, Nagito carried on, turning his head to the rest of us:

"Any of you have any questions?"

"How did you know that the bear would try and attack us?"

It was Chiaki. That couldn't be good.

However, Nagito merely shrugged: "Did you see those claws? Nothing good could come from that, nope."

He shrugged it off so easily…

"How about… WHY ARE WE HERE?" Fuyuhiko cut in, no longer amused by the whole situation.

"It's a school trip, meant to foster friendship and hope…"

By now, she was cowering at the ground, hands holding her bunny ears. Truly, a pathetic state for someone who claimed to be a role model.

"Cut the bullshit! There's no way they'd organize something that weird!"

"But is it that big a deal?" Ibuki jumped in, "This place _is_ pretty rad."

"That's not the point!"

"C'mon, lighten up, mini-thug."

"What'd you say to me!?"

"She called you a mini-thug," Nekomaru spoke up, standing between the gymnast and the yakuza, "I'd agree."

"You _don't_ scare me, _Team Manager,_ " the yakuza spat, his voice making the truthfulness of his words clear, "so just fuck off!"

"Enough, both of you!" Gundham decided to jump in, "Stop this insolent noise before I'm forced to cast you both into the freezing depths of Avernus!"

"Anywhere but there!" Sonia cried.

"Shut up, you! How dare you upset miss Sonia?" Kazuichi protested.

"What is this!? What terrible power do you wield?"

Now Gundham was backing away from Sonia, looking legitimately intimidated for a second, before calming down:

"I see… so you _are_ the Dark Queen… Very well, I shall withdraw this time, and this time alone!"

"We are surrounded by idiots and weirdoes..."

Regardless, Gundham's inspired interruption was enough to distract Fuyuhiko and Nekomaru, allowing for the interrogation to continue.

"Anyone else?"

"What is the direst physical punishment I can unleash upon the cook without breaking any rules?"

A couple of people were caught off-guard by Peko's oddball question, but the shrinking frame of Teruteru helped everyone understand her meaning – the boy's a pervert, and it's only a matter of time until he goes too far.

"Violence is strictly prohibited on the island!" Usami cried, "In fact, I will personally appear and stop anyone who thinks of doing something so horrible!"

"How?" Nagito asked, mockingly waggling the magical stick.

"Give it baaaack!" she whined.

"Uhm… maybe you should return it to her…"

"Huh?" He looked up at Mikan, who spoke up, only for her to dodge behind me, hiding from his apparently terrifying gaze.

"Haven't you tortured her enough? Give her the damn stick back!" Mahiru protested, stomping her foot.

"Wait, isn't anyone going to address the clearly unconcealed threat against my well-being!?" Teruteru panicked.

"No," was Byakuya's reply.

This went on for a bit longer. Eventually, however, Nagito agreed to turn over the stick to Usami, provided that she ensures that Monokuma is gone for good, and that the gates to the next island are opened by the end of the first week.

Too tired by the day's activities on the beach, and further exhausted by the business with the sudden appearance of the black bear, most of the students scattered, going back in groups of two or three.

Of course, it was no surprise that there were only three of us remaining in the park.

* * *

He had to admit, the stars looked amazing.

He hadn't ever noticed them during the killing trip… with everything that was going on, the beautiful design of the island was lost on them, the ever-present fear of Monokuma or another killing keeping their wanderlust at bay.

Actually… he did, but the view was tainted by the fact that the killing game had begun. But there wasn't going to be a killing game this time. The Ultimate Despair was destined to wither away and die…

There was nothing to fear anymore, right?

"That's right!" Usami popped up, complete with stick, "that monster was isolated for good. He'll never scare anyone ever again!"

"That's great…" he sighed, deciding to lay down on the grass in hopes of a better view.

"You showed extraordinary initiative," the gamer observed, sitting down next to him, "it was almost as if it was a premonition."

"Nah, we just got lucky," the last present person added, plopping down on the opposite side of the now prone Hajime, "the real fun is just beginning."

"Real fun?" she paused, getting both of the boys to smirk, "I don't understand."

"We're going to have our hands full, huh?"

"The worst part is over, though. We won, Hajime. She's gone for good."

"She? Whatever do you mean?" Usami cut in.

"Don't play stupid," Nagito frowned, "we know damn well that we were the Ultimate Despair, and that it was their leader that created that black monstrosity."

"W-W-What? You k-knew all this time?"

"It was painful, realizing what we've done… but overcoming the despair, overcoming that darkness that we've been in for so long... it sparked a hope unlike I've ever known."

"Yeah, you never told me what happened to you when Naegi showed up…"

"The second hardest battle of my life."

"What was the first?" Chiaki wondered, betraying an expression of amusement.

"Rebuttal showdown with Nagito, of course," Hajime laughed.

The Ultimate Lucky student rolled his eyes, lying down on the ground as well. Not wanting to feel left out, the girl joined them as well. Usami was nowhere to be seen.

"How do you undo that much fucked-up, though?"

"It's possible. It worked for the five of us that made it, and it can work for everyone else, I'm sure of it."

"I guess I don't have to pretend around the two of you…"

"We got Chiaki."

"Yeah."

"That's one."

"Three," Hajime corrected.

"Two," Chiaki corrected once more.

"Oh yeah… this place _is_ the world for you, huh?"

"It's a lovely world," she stated, pausing, "I'd hate to see what Monokuma would've done with it."

"That sucks…"

"It's not that bad."

"No, not about her," Nagito corrected himself, "I just realized something."

"…"

"Well, would you share it? You're with friends."

He seemed to consider that word, unsure whether to accept it so easily after the betrayals they've exchanged. Ultimately, however, now isn't then, and that's all there is to it.

"How could I ever be friends with people like the Ultimate talents? I'm just some a guy with really strong luck."

"Don't you remember? We would've been fried four times over if it wasn't for you during those class trials."

Another pause for consideration, this time followed up with a small smile.

"Yeah, you were pretty hopeless."

"Hope's all we had, Nagito, I tried to make due."

As quickly as it came, the smile vanished.

"Yeah… I guess you'll do better this time, what with the two of us helping you, right?"

"What exactly are we doing? I'm not following…" Chiaki muttered, almost soundlessly.

"We're going to reintroduce the Ultimate Despair to Hope, one at a time if we have to."

"It'll be easier for those of us that survived longer last time… we had more time to understand one another. We're in the dark about Byakuya or Mahiru, for example."

Nagito leapt to his feet, an impressive showing of dexterity, before offering a hand each to his fellow students.

"C'mon, let's do it."

* * *

**Students re-introduced to Hope:**

**-Hajime Hinata**

**-Chiaki Nanami**


	2. Thing Called Normal

Everyone gathered at the restaurant for breakfast.

“Woah! This food is delicious!”

“Excuse me, but this is barely palatable enough to be considered food, my dear,” Teruteru replied to Akane’s enthusing, his voice dripping with sleaziness, “I will whip up a meal that will cause your jaws to drop! And not just jaws!”

Byakuya’s eye roll registered on the Richter scale, as did Mahiru’s.

“…But your -”

“We get it, dude,” Kazuichi yawned, “your food is better than sex.”

About the same moment that those words were spoken, Hajime collapsed onto the floor, cutting off any further discussion. Shocked, he said nothing until he got up, dusting himself off; Hiyoko was in stitches.

“Nagito… why did you elbow me so hard in the ribs that I fell off my chair?”

“So deadpan…” Ibuki trailed off.

“I swear there was a good reason.”

“Please share it with everyone,” Sonia requested, immaculately polite, “I would like to know.”

Nagito scratched his head, grinning like an idiot: “No can do, sorry.”

Hajime sighed, returning to his seat.

“We ought to explore the island,” Nekomaru announced, massive frame looking slightly comical right next to the tiny dancer.

“We should divide into groups. I will go with Fuyuhiko and Hiyoko.”

“I don’t want to go with you, fat ass!” the line was repeated twice, in two different voices.

“Not negotiable,” the large man stated, the regality of it delaying what would’ve been an immediate response.

“Y’know… I think he’s right,” the ultimate mechanic offered, “In fact, I volunteer to go with Miss Sonia, and…”

He looked over everyone, trying to decide who would be the easiest obstacle to overcome:

“…and Peko,” he concluded, unenthusiastically.

“Alright! I got dibs on Hajime and Mikan!” Ibuki added, grinning.

“M-me!? I’m so sorry for making you pick me!” the nurse panicked, though was ignored by most everyone.

“Very well! Then I will take not only my four dark devas, but also Nekomaru and Akane. No secrets will remain undiscovered with our combined might!” Gundham jumped onto the bandwagon, sealing the topic – the class would divide into four groups of five, and a single group of four.

“I can’t believe you dragged me into this…” the yakuza growled, though he did so half-heartedly.

“It’s not that bad, Fuyuhiko…” Hajime offered, smiling.

“Yeah, right…” the boy sighed, losing any desire to protest further.

“Alright then… I guess we meet back here for dinner or something?”

“That would be too much. A neat 6 o’clock would be better.”

In the end, everyone ended up yielding to the Ultimate Affluent Progeny’s plan.

* * *

**Team Ibuki**

“Do we have to be called Team Ibuki? Can’t we come up with something more neutral?”

“Nope!” she replied immediately in a sing-song voice.

“Figures…” Hajime chuckled, scratching his head, “so, where are we going, then, team leader?”

“Huh? I thought Mikan was the leader.”

“Me!? I couldn’t possibly decide…”

“Anywhere is fine,” the sole boy of the group offered, “and I don’t get why we’re named after you when you’re not the leader...”

“I don’t know… the p-park?” she offered, carefully.

“Score!” Ibuki chimed, throwing up her arms.

It wasn’t that long a walk to the park, and aside from a brief glimpse of Byakuya’s group, there wasn’t anyone else heading in that direction. Just like any other day, the sun was shining bright, but the temperature was pleasantly moderate – truly, the island was a paradise.

Soon enough, the trio had found themselves in the park, a wide and grassy area dominated by the centerpiece statue, which was for some equipped with a small timer. It counted 70 days remaining.

“That’s new. Wasn’t there last night, Ibuki thinks!”

Sighing at his classmate’s eccentricity, Hajime wandered over to the timer, examining the display a bit closer – it was clearly a recent addition, probably posted there to put the students’ minds at ease.

“You’re right, it _is_ new. I guess Usami was telling the truth.”

“That Nagito was so _mean_ to her!” Mikan protested.

“Can you blame him? We did get thrown into this without any foreword…”

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

“Forget that noise!” yet again the musician interrupted, short attention span getting the better of her, “I need you guys to help me with something!”

“What exactly?”

“Check it!” she enthused, “Ibuki thinks this venue is the perfect place to set down a stage and do some live shredding!”

There was enough space for it, definitely, but…

“A stage? Where’d you get that idea?”

“I saw a portable stage assembly kit in the supermarket, duh!”

Hajime facepalmed, while Mikan merely began giggling to herself. Neither of them saw the existence of something like that to be completely absurd, especially on an island like this one.

“A live performance by the Ultimate Musician, huh? That sounds like I’d be fun…”

“Wait a second! It’s not a one-girl show! I need my Ultimate Band, y’know?”

“Don’t tell me you’ll…”

“And you’re the talent pool, yup yup!”

Realizing that some things never change, Hajime resigned himself to this undeniable fate:

“Then I guess I’ll play the drums… somehow.”

“Alright, so check out this all-star lineup, mmkay? I got lead vocals and guitar, naturally, Hajime’s on drums, the Ultimate Breeder can play bass, and that just leaves a backup vocal and secondary percussionist!”

“I have a hard time imagining Gundham taking part in something so casual. He seems rather… intense.”

Of course, Hajime knew that there was no person more loyal to his friends than Tanaka Gundham, but revealing too much insight might complicate things.

“I will accept no other casting choice!” Ibuki declared, then broke out into stage laughter: “Mwhahahaha!”

“Who did you have in mind for backup vocals and secondary p-percussion?” Mikan timidly questioned, moving into the statue’s shadow.

“Right, Ibuki totally forgot…” she trailed off, then slammed a fist into her open palm in realization:

“You can be the backup vocals, Mikan!”

An opportunity!

“I agree with her!” Hajime cut in, with the same intensity he recalled from the class trials, on those rare occasions he had information that backed up other statements.

“Woah! So intense!” Ibuki reeled back, surprised.

Mikan was silent for nearly an entire minute, before finally whispering:

“Ok…”

“Alright! It’ll be a jam! A happening!”

Hajime cringed, realizing what was about to happen.

“…a _Jammening_!”

He realized he was smiling. Genuinely smiling.

It was amazing how quickly it came to it. After trudging through the sludge of despair, seeing the darkness everyone had immersed themselves in… could he possibly undo that much damage? Was it ok to smile?

After everything that happened the first time, all those senseless killings… was it ok to pretend none of it ever happened? To let everyone forget about the fact that they were the Ultimate Despair?

The contrast was so stark… the things people like Mikan or himself did in the name of despair…

No, losing hope wasn’t an option at this point! While he cannot change the pasts that were and weren’t, Hajime Hinata still had a firm grasp on the future, a future everyone would be strong enough to face, despite the despair they themselves propagated.

So, this smile he felt guilty about… would become a _weapon_ against despair!

“A ‘Jammening’, huh? That’s exactly what this whole trip should be about, right?”

Ibuki hopped with excitement: “Heck yeah! Fun is the name of the game!”

“Speaking of fun… what exactly do you guys enjoy doing?” a new topic, to build the bonds of friendship…

* * *

**Team Teruteru**

“Protect meeeeee!” the team’s name-giver cried, ducking behind the green-clad lucky student.

“Kick his ass, Nagito! I’d do it myself if I didn’t know the little perv would enjoy it!”

Komaeda Nagito was standing between a chef and a photographer. He had a strange sense of disconnection, which in this case had nothing to do with the fact that he was in a virtual world – he was confused.

On one hand, he knew damn well what each and every one of them had done – the death room got him that knowledge, despite the memory wipe… and yet, these people, as they were before meeting the Ultimate Despair… they were the kind of people he looked up to, the kind of people he knew carried the hope he so idolized.

Right now, however…

“What are you spacing out for? Don’t tell me you agree with this harassment?”

“Eh? No, I don’t think I’ll have any problems getting lucky…”

“That joke was really bad, Nagito,” Chiaki added, sitting on one of the lounge chairs.

“I thought it downright charming,” Teruteru replied, still using the somewhat larger blonde as a meat shield.

“So, are we going exploring anywhere?” he wondered aloud, ignoring the country chef.

“I think only one island is open… and the others went there ahead of us. We may as well stay here.”

“She’s not even looking at you, man. She’s looking at that video game!”

In truth, she was. They were in the hotel’s yard, near the pool, though everyone was mostly dressed in their usual clothes; the tiles were a neutral, wooden color, and the lounge chairs looked comfortable.

“Don’t change the subject! I still want to kick your ass for that comment earlier!”

An idea brewed in the blonde’s mind. Hajime _did_ say he was good with ideas, so coming up with a solution shouldn’t be too hard.

“How about a wager?”

That seemed to give everyone pause.

“A…wager?”

“Yeah, to settle this dispute in a fair manner that won’t upset anyone.”

Chiaki put a finger to her lips, then nodded in agreement.

Grinning, Nagito pulled a coin from his pocket, laying it flat on his palm and letting both Teruteru and Mahiru examine it:

“You each declare something that you’d like the other to do. That way, both of you have an equal chance of winning.”

“But that can turn out terribly bad!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll determine whether the wager is objectively fair, so you can renegotiate.”

“See? Chiaki will make sure everything’s fair.”

“Alright then, I’m ready to make my wager!”

“It’s going to be something twisted, I just know it,” Mahiru sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

“I want… a _swimsuit calendar_ , made by the Ultimate Photographer herself!”

“…”

To Nagito, that desire seemed unusually… tame. He’d expected someone like Teruteru to be way less restrained than this…

“First of all… NO!” she began, “Secondly, we’re four girls short of a calendar, even if everyone would agree to do something like that.”

“She’s got you there, dude…”

“Oh, I ain’t picky. We do have some lovely individuals of both sexes here…”

“Twisted bastard…” the photographer sighed.

“And what would you wager, Mahiru?”

She didn’t even stop to think: “He needs to stop perving out all the time! And I got first pick of any sweets he makes, too.”

“Your opinion, Chiaki?” Nagito inquired, the coin dancing along his fingers – he hardly remembered where he picked up that particular skill.

“The difficulty of both tasks evens out, I think.”

“Alright, then!”

With a flick of his thumb, he launched the coin into the sky, watching it descend.

It hit the ground, bounced, began rolling, and…

“Oh, you _have_ to be kidding me!”

“This _is_ rather unlikely…”

The coin had slipped between the tiles near the pool, wedging itself into a perfect upright position.

“The odds… Nagito wanted this to happen…” the gamer observed, her handheld console having disappeared.

The two gamblers shot their ‘impartial’ classmate looks, getting only an innocent shrug in reply:

“I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about, Chiaki. But that does leave us with a question…”

“Whether it’s a double win, or double loss, right?” the chef asked.

“He planned this from the start!” Mahiru protested, pointing an accusatory finger at the blonde.

“So, what’ll it be? Resisting your impulses might be tricky, but the prize would be worth it. On the flip side, a set of photographs is a small price to pay for a guarantee of peace.”

“Damn it… you tricked us!”

“It’s your own fault for not thinking things through,” he replied, crossing his arms, “besides, you both win – I don’t see a problem with that.”

The two exchanged glances, a spark of malice in their eyes.

“Madam Koizumi, would you kindly?”

“Why yes, Mister Hanamura, I would!”

“Wait… what?”

Before he could react, the two both shoved him backwards, straight into the pool. As he sunk, Nagito couldn’t help but feel like laughing – this is a whole different kind of game, one that won’t be soiled by despair…

In that case, he’d take the dive again, in this case literally. It was the least he could do.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some plots will move faster or slower, depending on the character and my ability to portray them successfully over longer periods of time.
> 
> The Fuyuhiko/Peko dynamic will be resolved rather quickly, for example, while the same can't be said about Hiyoko, Nagito or Twogami.


	3. Test of Leadership, Part 1

**Peko**

By habit, I’m up by 6AM in the morning. Although this is a place of rest and recreation, it would be unwise to slack with my training, so the following hour is spent practicing forms, which doubles as meditative exercise.

I catch a flicker of motion through the window, and peer out the door to notice the Togami heir making his way towards the hotel restaurant. For a man of his immense size, he moves with an uncanny grace… was I not told of his title, this revelation would’ve provided all the information I’d ever need.

Not long after, the young master leaves his bungalow and makes his way to the same place. He is trying to keep distance between us, that much is clear… but I don’t understand why. It would only be natural for him to collect me as part of his morning routine, if only so I’d be present should he have need of me…

Resolving to bring up my concerns at an appropriate time, I walk over to the closet.

The selection of clothes is anything but humble. A person who focuses on their appearance would surely enjoy something like that, but to me it’s merely a distraction. I usually end up picking similar-looking clothes most of the time, anyway.

The moment I step out of the bungalow, I’m accosted by one of my peers – the Ultimate Princess.

“Ah, good morning miss Pekoyama,” she greets, her voice carrying a regality that cannot be mistaken. Almost despite myself, I’m driven to reply in kind.

“Good morning, miss Nevermind.”

She nods, looking over to the restaurant:

“I would like to thank you for accompanying me and Kazuichi yesterday. Your subtle presence was appreciated.”

While I did nothing more than simply stand near the girl, she still finds it necessary to thank me… puzzling, but I ought not to express that impression.

“It was no trouble at all.”

“Nonsense! You should’ve protested and went to join Fuyuhiko! You two _are_ friends, are you not?”

Friends? I hold the young master in higher esteem than any other, and can only hope he feels the same way, but… are we friends?

“Something I said must’ve caused you distress… I am sorry.”

“You can tell?” the words escape before I realize it. Sloppy.

She smiles, pressing her hands together as only people used to power can:

“The royal court is full of people who wear no expressions – I was taught to look for other clues when speaking to such people.”

“I see.”

“Well, I shan’t take any more of your time! Know that you are always welcome to come over, should you desire so.”

And with that, the Ultimate Princess gave another nod, then continued over to the hotel. For her, this couldn’t have been anything more than a casual conversation, yet I… Situations like these are stressful. I much prefer sticking to the sidelines, where people are few and far in-between.

With nothing else to do, I made my way across the hotel yard as well, loath to linger in front of the bungalows for fear that someone else would ask for a word.

Up above, the table was already set. Akane, Byakuya, Sonia, Mahiru, Hajime and the young master were all already seated. I took the spot next to him.

“I know this is a vacation, but sleeping in after 8 o’clock is a horrible habit to have,” the redhead began, pointing loosely to the gymnast, ”and no offense, but I completely thought you’d still be snoozing right now.”

Akane seemed to care little for etiquette – she spoke whist chewing:

“Not me! Girl’s gotta eat, y’know? And breakfast is early on, right?”

“Sup, people?”

Komaeda strolled in, taking the closest free seat, which ended up being right next to mine. While he never was very prim to begin with, his hair looked almost offensively messy this morning.

“Wow, you look like crap, Nagito,” Akane offered, with all the elegance of a back-alley stabbing.

He didn’t seem to take offense to that, though, just giving off a cartoonish grin: “Don’t I know it.”

“Speaking of knowledge, I would hear what you’ve discovered yesterday. We did separate into groups with that exact purpose,” the heir spoke up, refilling his plate for the third time by my count – I could only guess how many times he managed to do so while I was held up.

“Won’t you shut up? I’m trying to enjoy my breakfast here, asshole,” the young master spoke up, his teeth bared.

“Hmph,” the large man scoffed, “I guess it’s to be expected of a thug to overlook the importance of organization.”

“What’d you call me!?”

I felt my hand twitch, so I quickly put down the fork. It’s unlikely that the rabbit thing will allow things to come to blows, but just in case…

“That is what you are, is it not? You may be a Kuzuryu and talented in the trade, but you are still a thug.”

Fuyuhiko’s rage was almost a palpable aura – yet he showed no sign of losing composure:

“I’m **the** Kuzuryu, you fat bastard! I won leadership of the clan by my own merits!”

“Did you, really?”

The entire table turned to look at the messy-haired blonde, who was taking another spoonful of tomato sauce, completely oblivious:

“Didn’t you have Peko with you?”

I turned to look at the young master, who seemed to be truly seething now…

“That’s beside the point! I got where I am by leading men, not by sitting on my ass and stuffing myself!”

While it was probably unintentional on his part, it was kind of Nagito to bring that up – while I am nothing more than a tool to him, I _was_ there…

“I refuse to acknowledge a thug as a competent leader,” Byakuya concluded, crossing his arms.

“Why you! I’m gonna…”

“Tiiiime out!”

The twitch was almost painful this time, and I almost smirked when Mahiru threw a muffin at the magical girl. It’s unnatural for something like her to just appear out of thin air, and yet…

“There’s no reason to get worked up!” she chided, standing on the table, “We can settle the debate with a contest!”

“Ooh, that sounds fun!” the princess chimed in, clasping her hands in delight.

“Yeah, I wanna see them go head to head!” Akane agreed.

“Hah! Usami’s competitive test of leadership is just the thing for this!” she boasted, crossing her arms not unlike the Togami heir himself.

“Just tell us what it is already!” the impatient photographer demanded, face flushed as red as her hair.

“A game of capture the flag!” she declared with pride.

“A game!? What the hell kind of bullshit is that!?”

He never was fond of games, the young master… the pacifistic spirit of the school trip must be agitating him if he’s so ready to fly off into a rage…

“Fitting, I would say,” Byakuya spoke.

“What are you talking about, asshole!?”

“Oh, I get it!” Nagito spoke up once more, either oblivious to the tension, or just choosing to ignore it, “if it’s a test of leadership, it doesn’t matter if you’re leading a country-wide organization or a game of capture the flag, right?”

“The core skills should be the same…” Sonia agreed, looking more enthusiastic by the second, “in fact, it is unmistakable that they are! A winner of such a game would surely be a fitting leader of men!”

“Really? Settle it with a game!?”

Then, all of a sudden, a light came up in his eyes, and he gave a grin, the kind he’d show when a plan comes together, when victory was undeniable.

“So I just have to win, and the Ultimate _Affluent Progeny_ has to declare me as a superior leader in front of everyone?”

“That’s the idea,” Nagito confirmed.

“W-Wait, this isn’t…”

Ignoring the rabbit thing, the young master spoke the words that would define this as one of the most unique days of this island vacation:

“Alright, I’m in.”

* * *

**Akane**

I can’t help but glance around every few seconds… the place’s been too quiet, and my gut is acting up. Somebody must be skulking around, just out of sight.

We split into teams, as equal as we’re gonna get. Each team has four flags to protect, and the limit is two hours – whoever has more flags at that point wins. She did space them out, though, so mini-mafia sent me to guard our most exposed point.

It’s not like it’s going to be a problem, really… only someone like coach Nekomaru could keep up with me in a contest like this, and…

“COME OUT AKANEEE!” he roared, walking up to the beach with no effort to hide, ”I CHALLENGE YOU!”

I’m in full view and dashing before he’s done yelling; Togami clearly knew who to send:

“Come and get me, then!”

My flying kick whiffs, so I back up and leap upwards for an elbow drop – dodged!

“Hah!” he grins, sweeping out and leaving a deep ditch in the sand, “you’re not applying your full potential!”

A quick combo of punches sends me barreling across the beach, but tumbling _is_ my specialty, and I’m back on my feet before he can press the advantage. For a man of his size, coach is ridiculously quick.

“When I kick your ass…” I start, kicks whiffing left and right, though not badly enough to allow for a counterattack, “you can stop offering to train me! How’s that sound?”

One goes too wide, and I feel his vicelike hand grip my ankle:

“Too slow,” he declares, “take your PUNISHMENT!”

I’m flung into the water as if I’m nothing more than a stick he picked up on the road here. The terrible might of coach Nekomaru is enough to have me skip across the surface once before sinking!

“Uwah!”

Blub.

By the time I clamber out onto the sand, he is standing in the middle of the beach, arms crossed in triumph, my flag nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it!” I kick at the sand, sending a loose pebble flying into the beach house wall; there’s a small _thump_ sound.

“You can accept this as your limit, Akane…” he begins, cracking a smirk, “or you can man up and truly show me what you’ve got!”

I don’t even answer:

“Hai-yah!”

“…”

**_[4 Hours Later]_ **

My skirt is in tatters, I have no idea where my shoes are, the beach house door is awkwardly planted in the middle of the beach as improvised cover… and I STILL HAVEN’T WON!

“Your fighting spirit… I’ve never seen anything like it!” he cheers, shirtless and with a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth – yet he doesn’t even _look_ winded!

“Maybe if…” I gasp, my breath short, “…you’d just…” wow, this is getting hard, “…give up…”

“UNACCEPTABLE!” he roars, tackling me to the ground.

It’s only then that I realize that we’ve been doing this for a while now – the sky’s dark, and the beach’s nighttime lighting is on…

“Fine! I give!” I cry, realizing that I’ve been starving for the past two hours.

He lets me go, sits up, and gives the beach a thorough examination:

“I might’ve gotten carried away somewhat…”

“No shit, man,” I grin, “the place’s totaled.”

“We’re done with the game, right?”

“I think it was done hours ago…”

“Then let’s go eat! There’s a diner somewhere on the island, and I’ve got a craving!”

I couldn’t help but smile – he took the words right outta my mouth.

* * *

 

 


	4. Test of Leadership, Part 2

**Hajime**

“Mikan, run!” I cried, then realized that, unless the instructions are more specific, they won’t carry over properly, not with Mikan, at least:

“Take your flag back to Fuyuhiko point without getting hurt, and then wait for me there! If made to choose between peril and the flag, give up the flag! Now go!”

On cue, she clutches the flag, darting off towards our team’s base with all the speed she can muster, disappearing within seconds.

“Drat! Get her! I got Hajime!”

I did hope that Chiaki would be the one that stays, which would afford at least some breathing room… no such luck, it seems. I sigh as I watch the Ultimate Gamer disappear into the distance, tumbling across the grass to avoid the Ultimate Musician’s disproportionate fury.

“Face me, mister Hajime!” she cried out, her melodic voice completely out of sync with the savagery she was displaying in her pursuit.

“I’d rather not…” I sighed, having managed to clamber atop what looked to be a surf shack, kicking over the step ladder that was conveniently positioned there beforehand.

“No faaaair! Ibuki wants to play with Hajime, but I can’t do that if you’re waaaaaaay up there.”

She could literally reach up and clamber on. I’m actually stunned with the absurdity of the situation.

“Can’t we just talk for a moment? I’m not ready to face my premature demise…”

One thing I’ve noticed from the get go? Both Nagito and I have a better sense of humor about things… I guess it must’ve been hard having a proper laugh when we were forced to kill one another, but still...

To be honest, playing super-tag with Ibuki is _fun_ , despite the very real risk that she might tear into me like I’m a bag of salt crisps.

“What about? Did Ibuki forget about a scheduled conversation interaction event?” she wondered aloud, placing a finger against her temple in hopes of jogging the supposed memory.

“Your event… the Jammening, right?”

She lit up at that: “Hell to the yes! The _Jammening_ is the cultural music event of the season! No, the decade! It’s going to be raaaaaad!”

“So you won’t mind performing with us, even if we’re not as musically gifted?”

She seems to sink into deep thought at that… or as deep thought as someone as energetic as her can go. It’s not long before she’s clawing at my feet again:

“Doesn’t matter!” she jumps, forcing me to back up, almost losing my footing, “anyone can jam if they practice a bit, and Ibuki can handle the rest!”

I realize that my stall tactics won’t work much longer… better to quit while I’m ahead.

With a mighty leap, I clear Ibuki completely, hitting the ground running. It’s only a matter of seconds, but I manage to make it to the edge of the park when she catches up, taking the floor from under me. The ground is soft and grassy, the same comfortable grass-bed I laid on the night when I gazed at the stars with Nagito and Chiaki.

A short tumble later, and I find myself staring up at Ibuki… _who’s wearing a skirt._

“Teruteru, _eat your heart out_ …” I mumble, then raise up my arms in defense, intent on blocking the incoming hit, only to hear something hit the ground next to me. The grass brushes up against my face, making me want to sneeze, but I fight the urge.

When I dare look again, I’m met with her bright, expressive eyes staring right into my soul… it feels dirtier than the angled peek I was afforded. She’s also on the ground, maintaining the _intense_ eye contact, saying nothing.

In fact, I dare say this is the longest I’ve seen Ibuki go without saying anything.

“You know that feeling when you see someone, and you instantly click and you realize it’s a person you want to get to know, faults and all, just because they’re them and you’re you and that little voice in the back of your head is telling you to go for it because otherwise you’d regret it for the rest of your life?”

The torrent of thoughts breaks the magic, and I jerk back, no longer under the spell of her hypnotic gaze.

“Uh… not really?”

She gives a small sigh, and the next moment, her serious expression is completely gone:

“Ibuki’s team is totally gonna win, though.”

“Yeah, as if.”

* * *

**Nagito**

Gundham is putting on one hell of a fight, that much’s clear…

I duck to the side, managing to luck out yet again, dodging the mop he hurled like a javelin. While the supermarket is not lacking for cover, the same can be said about available ammunition, and he’s in way better a position than I am right now…

“Give up, Nagito Komaeda. Your useless floundering only scarcely delays the inevitable! Victory shall be mine!”

Another barrage, and I find myself ducking under a stack of toilet paper packages. Truly, a unique experience…

“I think I’ll stay right here, if you don’t mind…”

“In that case… I will deny your safety! Hooah!”

There’s an honest-to-hope explosion, and I’m thrown clear across an aisle, crashing into what seems to be a bin full of packaged marshmallows.

“Now do you understand the power of Gundham Tanaka? Give up while I still have mercy to show!”

Sheesh, he really doesn’t wind down, does he? Though, to be fair, he _is_ fighting clean; the only reason I’m on the back foot is because he got the drop on me initially…

Still, Byakuya will chew me out if I flop here, so it’s time to kick things into gear. His boasting gives me a few precious seconds, and I lob a can of tomato sauce at him before dashing for the sports gear area.

I scarcely have time to check my six, but the moment I do, he’s there, hot on my tail. I try and knock over shit as I run past, but even decked out in that coat and scarf, he’s keeping up without breaking a sweat!

With just enough of a lead, I manage to dive for the aisle I need, getting my hands on precious weaponry – a tennis racquet and a set of bright yellow tennis balls.

I turn to launch one of my balls at his face, only to see him brandishing the perfect counter-weapon – a lacrosse stick, complete with thick net.

It’s disheartening, but then again, it’s no surprise that I can’t match up against a true Ultimate… taking out Chiaki was a fluke, and that’s only because she was a damn program…

Still… Hajime would give it his best shot, right? That man… brimming with so much hope that he can reject the Ultimate talents given to him by Hope’s Peak, and _still_ make the difference that dooms and redeems the Ultimate Despair…

And if that’s the case… I don’t want to be left behind! This time, I’ll earn the title of _Ultimate Hope_ for real!

“Don’t push me, Gundham! **I’m an Ultimate too**!”

I start serving shots with greater power, then brave a couple of trick shots, praying that luck sees me through – it works, and now I’m the one advancing.

The world goes red, and just for a moment, I feel that phantom pain in my left hand, the sick numbness that symbolizes everything I loved and hated, the reason I too failed…

“…”

When my mind clears up, the supermarket looks like ground zero for a tornado touchdown, and Gundham is nowhere to be seen. Coincidentally, my left shoe is missing and the racquet has a hole the size of a person’s head in it; additionally, something smells like smoke.

The very next moment, Gundham is standing some ways off in front of me, arms crossed and four very intense-looking devas perched on his shoulders. His smirk is one of ultimate satisfaction:

“Most extraordinary… but your pathetic emotion cannot begin to pierce my defenses! All your effort in this battle is now rendered meaningless!”

He flicks his wrist, and I manage to catch the sheen of a plastic fishing line, leading somewhere up…

There’s no time to dodge. Box upon box of salty potato crisps collapses on me like an avalanche. It doesn’t hurt in the least, but the sheer size of the payload buries me completely; it’s a good three minutes before I manage to claw myself out.

He’s sitting down across the aisle, feeding baby carrots to the devas. He raises his head, motioning to the flagpost, which now unmistakingly displayed the color of team Kuzuryu.

I sigh, plopping on the ground as well:

“I never had a snowball’s chance in hell, huh?”

He makes a motion as if he’s going to speak again, but then decides against it, merely petting Cham-P on its’ adorable little head:

“I mean, you are an Ultimate, and I’m just some guy with some good luck, right?”

I don’t know what I was thinking, honestly… how could trash like me ever make a difference? Even in a game, I’m completely and utterly eradicated before a true Ultimate.

“…”

“I cheated,” he states, then stands up, his scarf swishing dramatically, and disappears behind the aisle.

I dash after him, but he’s completely gone, as if by magic…

“…”

Was he telling the truth, or just trying to make me feel better? Why would someone like him try and make someone like _me_ feel better, anyway?

But then again, isn’t that the original purpose of the Ultimates? Weren’t they supposed to bring Ultimate Hope to the world?

Maybe… maybe I can find my place among them too… if I get lucky.

* * *

**Fuyuhiko**

“Come on out, I know you’re there.”

On cue, Peko comes out of the shadows, arms crossed and glasses gleaming in the light. Of course the fat fuck would send her against our main point… he didn’t count on me staying here myself, though – she didn’t count on it either.

“Young master… if you wish it so, I will betray Byakuya’s team. This game means nothing to me.”

It’s not about the game, Peko…

I don’t know whether to feel pissed or just sorry. Even in a place like this, she still doesn’t get it, huh? Maybe I’m being too soft on her, too wrapped-up in the past to make place for the future, a _proper_ future.

“You do that…” I trail off, brandishing the pimp-ass walking stick I brought as my weapon of choice, “and I’ll kill you _myself_!”

She reels back for only a moment, but then there’s the steel… _there it is._

“I know you, young master. I am your sword and your shield… I don’t want to do this, but…”

“Don’t call me that!”

If this is the way I have to go about it, with stupid games and magical girls and the Togami motherfucker… Gah!

Doesn’t matter, words are overrated anyway.

She has all the right forms and all the right steps, but her heart’s not in it. With a stick… a _fucking stick_ , I’m somehow a match for her… complete bullshit!

How the fuck am I supposed to stand on my own feet if she keeps treating me like a kid? I _know_ I can do this, but… I _can’t_ do it if she’s always putting my needs in front of her own!

“Damn it, Peko! Fight back! That’s an order!”

“But…”

“Don’t you dare fucking hesitate! I’ll show you what you get for disrespecting me!”

Getting pissed helps me focus – swearing is a minor thing compared to the clarity I get when shit needs to get done, and if I’m going to… I _need_ my fucking focus.

This island, Togami… it’s all fucking bullshit! Each and every person here can go fuck themselves! They don’t understand _shit!_

“Argh! FUCK!”

The stick is batted from my hand. It’s a twitch of her wrist, but more than enough to disarm me…

“I’m sorry, but…”

“Don’t you **dare**! If you hold back…”

I clench my fist, ready to do the absolutely fucking stupidest thing of my career:

“I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

The lunge is perfect, weeks of practice showing. Foot connects with the handle of her sword, and it’s enough to send it flying – even a master’s weapon can be outmatched by applying overwhelming force properly.

I have her pinned on the ground before she realizes what’s happening. Her arms aren’t moving when my fist comes crashing down.

“…”

Bones fucking splinter, and my hand sinks a good inch into the wooden floor. I’ll probably need the nurse, but that shit’s so far out of my mind that it barely counts. Right here, right now, gotta say it now or I’ll never fucking do it…

“Why can’t you FUCKING GET IT!? I DON’T NEED A SHIELD, OR A TOOL! I NEED…”

“…”

“…I need you to give me _a chance_ , ok?”

She throws me to the side, and I can’t collect myself enough to look her in the eyes. Instead, I just sit there like a loser, too afraid to look up.

I hear her footsteps batter down the hallway, then it’s just silence. She’s gone…

Takes a while, but I manage to chill out and pull myself together. The doorway’s empty, her broken sword laying uselessly on the floor; still can’t believe I broke that fucking thing…

I stand up, dusting myself off.

Another fucking problem… it’s been some week, man. First they ship us out to east bumblefuck nowhere, and now I make this fucking mess with Peko…

Why couldn’t she just fucking _get it?_

I turn around, intent on heading back to the flag…

“…”

No fucking way.

“She took it… she took my _motherfucking flag…_ ”

I lost the game. She listened to me, and she cost the fucking game, the game that was supposed to prove to that prick that I’m a capable leader. I lost the game to Peko. Fucking Byakuya won, with his team of morons, and he’s going to call me out on it in front of everyone.

I lost the game to Peko. I’m grinning like a fucking psychopath.

“ _Shit_.”

* * *

**‘Byakuya’**

I wait for him by the scoreboard in the hotel yard, not to gloat, but to express my admiration.

While it does read 5:3 for my team, I know that Pekoyama’s infiltration was the deciding move.

Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko walks into the yard just as the sun is setting:

“Oh great, _it’s you._ ”

Always spoiling for a fight… even though he’s set to win any that he’s involved in – it’s his nature after all. The Yakuza crush all who oppose underfoot, allowing neither mercy nor escape. To him, this contest shouldn’t have been any different.

“So? What do you want?”

And yet, there’s little fight left. Whatever happened there, it must’ve affected them both greatly – Pekoyama retreated to her room without a single word, and now Kuzuryu sounds like he’s willing to pass over a chance to assert dominance…

I could make an enemy out of him, but that would be too easy. I’m bred for things greater than that:

“Well played.”

“…”

There’s no need to say anything else. I turn, and walk away.

* * *

**Students re-introduced to hope:**

**-Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu**


	5. At Dawn, We Plan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title is a reference - I hope you recognize it, because it means you watch something unique.
> 
> Also, I fooled around with a 'rebuttal showdown' styled bit.

**Chiaki**

There was an incredibly loud banging at my door, like someone desperately wanted me to wake up and see something. Just to be safe, I looked around to confirm that my room wasn’t on fire – thankfully, it wasn’t.

Then… why would anyone be trying to wake me up this early? It’s not even dawn…

Adjusting my shirt, I made my way to the door, making sure to turn on the entryway light as I approached.

“Told you she’s awake.”

It was Nagito… and Hajime. Almost immediately, my thought process assumed the worst:

“Is something wrong? Is everyone alright?”

Only then do I notice the picnic basket Nagito has hanging from his arm.  
“Nothing like that,” Hajime chuckled, “we just need to talk to you without anyone else showing up.”

I thought about it for a moment, then gave him my answer:

“You can come into my room. Please, avoid stepping onto any of my discarded undergarments – I didn’t expect guests.”

They exchange looks, neither giving much of a reaction. It’s Nagito who speaks up:

“Maybe next time. We picked out a spot for today’s discussion already.”

A discussion? It probably has something to do with their handling of Monokuma’s sudden appearance, as well as the ‘restoration of hope’ they mentioned… I think.

But why would they want me to help? Putting faith in someone who doesn’t really exist is usually considered a poor decision. But perhaps that’s exactly why they’ve spoken to me – I’m uniquely qualified… and uniquely inconsequential.

“Should I get dressed, then?”

They both grin:

“It’s probably a good idea, yeah.”

_[ **A while later, at the old storage room.** ]_

“You brought food?”

Nagito nods, then pops open the basket:

“Bagels and Orange Juice – they were the first things I saw at the market, so I just went and took them.”

“Shouldn’t that have been a dead giveaway, though?” Hajime wonders aloud, “A supermarket in a place without currency – it’s surreal.”

“And we didn’t question it for a second… scary, huh?”

“The way I recall it; we _were_ kind of busy dealing with more pressing questions….”

They pass around the food, and I slowly begin nibbling on the strange early breakfast. They’ve brought quite enough, however… how long do they expect this meeting to last?

Still, it’s not a bad location – the place kind of reminds me of a puzzle game I really liked. Maybe once we’re done with talking, they’d join me for a round of some quick fun?

“Alright, now that we’re all together, we may as well get to it,” Nagito speaks up, sounding much more serious than usual.

Hajime gives a grim nod, saying nothing. Despite that, they’re both nibbling on bagels.

“We’ve got ourselves quite a handful… nobody here was truly vile to begin with, but desperate circumstances brought out the worst in us. Our job is to make sure that that darkness stays buried, annulled by the truly hope-inspired memories we create here.”

“When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound particularly gratifying, I think.”

“Yeah…” Hajime scratches his head, looking a bit deflated, “it kinda misses the point if we approach it like an operation, doesn’t it?”

Komaeda’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, merely motioning for one of us to pick up the discussion.

After a couple of seconds pass in fascinating silence, Hajime starts talking:

“We have to approach this naturally, giving it our all to support events that propagate hope!”

He stops to consider something, and then smiles:

“Like this game of Capture the Flag, for example. Everyone pretty much joined in without arguing, even people you’d expect to straight-up refuse! And don’t you dare say it wasn’t fun… I saw you leaving the market!”

“…”

“So that’s how we’re going to do this…” he trails off, then pulls up a bit, making a bit more distance between the two of them. There’s a fire in his eyes, and I feel my heartbeat getting quicker – this feels…

“Prepare yourself, Hajime!”

* * *

**REBUTTAL SHOWDOWN!**

NAGITO: Have you forgotten already? I’ve seen our file… the things we did were _monstrous...!_

NAGITO: Not only that, but… We don’t have any way of inspiring actual Hope!

NAGITO: Without a killing… we can’t advance hope!

==/==

HAJIME: **No, that’s wrong!**

You underestimate everyone Nagito, just like you did before…

If we work together, with a clear goal in mind… there’s no way this plan can fail!

Besides… it’s not like we’re alone in this!

NAGITO: An inspiring rebuttal is nice and all… but _what’s our play?_

From where I’m standing, there’s not much we can do, even with Chiaki’s help…

I won’t lose _hope_ , but… what are our options?

HAJIME: Every person here wants to feel hope… it’s just a matter of setting up an opportunity for it!

If we apply our talents, we can use the opportunities we already have… just look at yesterday!

I’m not exactly sure what happened… but Fuyuhiko definitely acted different after the game!

==/==

NAGITO: **It’s not enough!**

Fuyuhiko isn’t the problem! In fact, his problem was rather easy to help with…

I’m talking about people like Teruteru or Hiyoko, the people we don’t know as well…!

That thing with Fuyuhiko… it’s probably just dumb luck!

In the end… we’re right where we started!

==/==

HAJIME: **That’s exactly it!**

What you just said… that’s the key to our predicament.

We can’t possibly cure the members of the Ultimate Despair… but we _can_ help our friends!

Remember, Nagito… they can’t remember the people they were, not unless the simulation wants them to.

So our job is much simpler – we help our friends however we can… and I know where we can start!

==/==

NAGITO: **There’s still a hole in your argument!**

You say the simulation is on our side… but why’d it help _me_ remember, then?

I can’t help but feel that… my ignorant self would be way _easier_ to help!

It’s not that I’m giving up… but I can’t just take your word for it.

I’ll need you to prove it to me, Hajime! Prove to me that your hope can beat our forgotten despair!

==/==

HAJIME: **Alright, it’s time to end this!**

**=BREAK=**

* * *

**Chiaki**

“You two sound really excited… is this why you wanted a remote area?”

They both seemed to pause at this. Hajime, especially seemed surprised, almost as if he had forgotten I was here.

“Well, yeah. There’s no way this wouldn’t get loud,” he smirked, then motioned to Nagito, “but I don’t think we need to yell that much longer…”

He cleared his throat, then began to speak:

“I’ll cut to the chase – the person we need to help most is none other than _Tsumiki Mikan._ ”

“Mikan?” Nagito asked, “the last time, she caught the despair disease and remembered her _Ultimate Despair_ persona…”

“Didn’t you ever wonder _why_ we became the Ultimate Despair?” Hajime asked, and I realized that was the one bullet he’s been holding onto ever since the beginning.

Nagito didn’t say anything at first. In fact, quite a long time passed before he said anything, really. We simply sat there, waiting for his reply.

I exchanged glances with Hajime, who merely nodded in a way that suggested that I should wait him out – so I did. The two of them… they know things that they shouldn’t, and things that, to my knowledge, never happened.

While I am curious about how that happened… I think it’s best that I show that I’m willing to trust them. That’s probably why they called me here to hear all this, I think.

“…You’re right. I never did wonder… even though I know it’s who we were, I don’t _remember_ doing the things the file.”

He stood up, dusting crumbs off of his hoodie:

“Alright, I believe you, Hajime. If you think it’s possible, then I’ll do my part to make it so. I’ll go talk to her.”

And he walked away.

“…”

“Now, Chiaki… I guess you have some questions, right?”

My response to his question was simply to smile:

“Not really. I understand all I need to at the moment… would you like me to help you clean this room up?”

“I, uh… Yeah, ok.”

And that was that.

 


	6. Right-Hand

**Ibuki**

I roll up to Byakuya-chan’s crib, a need to talk to him before anyone else today overcoming me.

“Knock-knock!” I sing, as I knock-knock on his door. It’s a cool looking door, very regal, very Byakuya-chan.

“Go away,” he replies from somewhere within, “I’ll come to breakfast on my own time.”

“But Ibuki has to talk to you!” I begin, then pause, deciding to amend my false statement, “Actually, Ibuki _wants_ to talk to you!”

His sigh shakes the ground, and I leap back reflexively, eyes trained on the regal door that slowly creaks open. Into the sunlight he comes, larger than life and definitely larger than Ibuki. Even behind glasses, the twinkle in his eyes looks so… _familiar._

“What do you want? I’ve little time for nuisances.”

His voice carries the sound of experience, hardships and competition, but it’s… how can I define it… off-key?

Like Byakuya-chan isn’t really Byakuya-chan, like his voice is not just his, or maybe not his at all… It’s so mysterious!

“Byakuya is the Ultimate Affluent Gentleman, he’ll surely walk Ibuki to the restaurant! You will treat me like a proper lady, won’t you?”

His affluent eyebrow raises for a moment, and there’s a look of consideration in his eyes for only a moment – a moment that passes too soon.

“I will do no such thing, and I will ask that you refrain from bothering me further. We may all be stuck on this island together, but that does _not_ make us equal.”

So sad… and I wanted to play with Byakuya-chan today… though, I wanted to do that yesterday too, and the first day we arrived. Maybe I should ask Hajime? Maybe Nagito? Ooh, ooh, I know, I’ll ask Gundham-chan!

“Your fear of good times has been noted!” I declare, gesturing dramatically with my hands for necessary flair, “Ibuki’s mission is now to have Ultimate Fun with the Ultimate Byakuya-chan, no matter the cost!”

That said, I spin on my heels and begin marching off towards the restaurant alone, humming a slick Irish folk-tune to myself. Gotta write a new song while on the island; progressive fusion of Euro folk and Nu-techno, played alongside a symphonic orchestra… it’s gonna be _legendary!_

“Hey, Ibuki! Wait up, will you?”

A new voice! Oh, wait, Ibuki knows this one… but still!

“Swish!” I turn around, skirt flapping and hair-horns twitching. Twitch.

Poor Mahiru is so _plain!_ So much color inside, choking underneath the dull clothes and dry attitude...

“You were talking to Byakuya just now, weren’t you? Why?” she questioned, index-finger rubbing up-down against the biggest button on her camera. She sounds like Ibuki’s mom, soft and gentle, with big eyes and a bigger smile. No pictures though – Ibuki never saw her take her own photo.

“He asked Ibuki out to prom, but Ibuki had to say no, for she has given her word and her heart to another… To Byakuya-chan! A girl is as good as her word, and I strive to be the best!”

Three blinks before she sighs. Mahiru-chan likes to sigh, just like adults do. She even does it at the same times – it’s scary!

“Look, I just don’t want you getting into trouble. Guys like him think they’re entitled to everything just because they’re ‘ _Byakuya Togami’_ or something.”

She worries so much about others that she can’t worry about herself… she’s like band-manager, always bringing the snacks and taking care of everyone’s problems and stuff, only to cry herself to sleep on the couch, because someone else passed out in her bed. Ibuki feels bad for her.

“I know! You can be the Ultimate Gentleman today! You can show Ibuki a good time around the island, and in return, I’ll compose an epic to raise your name into the heavens!”

“Uhm, I don’t think…”

“And you shouldn’t! Let’s goooooo!”

She’ll feel better after a good run around the island. You always feel better after a good run, except when you don’t… in that case, you ought to have went running earlier!

* * *

**Peko**

Naturally, I’ve decided to skip breakfast for today.

What I need is a confidante, someone spineless enough to obey commands, but charming and mindful enough to get the job done. Immediately, four people came to mind.

However, with breakfast over, I have no clue as to where I should start looking for them – they’ve scattered to the four winds. Though I doubt anyone’s much interested in exploring the hospital, aside from maybe Tsumiki, I can’t come up with a solid reason why Nevermind _wouldn’t_ head straight for the military base.

Supposedly, children of Novoselic learn to pilot combat vehicles around the time they learn to multiply – imagine that.

There’s no further point in staying in my room – the young master is long gone, and all the nuisances are more or less scattered as well. I quickly shower and put on a fresh change of clothes, then head out.

“…”

I ended up riding the roller coaster several times over, my persistent inability to find _anyone_ frustrating me into making that choice. Though it’s well-designed and thrilling, even on repeat rides, it doesn’t do much to solve my problem…

The truth is, I don’t know what to say to him. From the moment I gained awareness of the world around me, there were two things that never changed about me – I was one with my sword, and I was at Fuyuhiko’s side.

And now… now he asks me to erase such a great part of myself…

I know his reasoning is sound. I know it’s the right thing to do, the thing I should’ve done years ago… but what if he fails? I could no more endure watching his heart break than I could stop being Peko Pekoyama – some things _shouldn’t_ change, even if they can.

It won’t be a goodbye, not ever. I am bound to the young master, just as he is bound to me – we grew alongside one another, and though my purpose was only ever to support him, his decisions, suggestions and opinions had shaped my life, creating the woman that I am today…

It feels strange to admit, but I _like_ who I am. I may not have Nevermind’s smile, or Mioda’s approachability, but I will always, undoubtedly, be _Peko_ … and that is something I will never regret.

Distancing myself from him… would it not begin to erase who I am?

But then again, who am I that only exists in the shadow of someone else? It’s like he said, there’s no need for a tool or a shield – I cannot be a tool, a shield, and still be myself.

What am I then, if I’m no weapon? Who would Peko Pekoyama be, were she not the bladed right hand of Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu?

“I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

Tsumiki?

I step around the corner, catching sight of the situation that prompted the girl’s multitudes of apologies:

“…”

They’re occupying one of the many benches strewn about the amusement park.

Tsumiki sits on the seat itself, half of her head obscured by a cloud of puffy bubblegum-pink mist; it could only be cotton candy, but it must be a disastrous set of circumstances that led to this. She looks, and I’m not exaggerating, like she’s dipped her head into the machine’s drum.

Above her, perched on the bench back like some cartoonish bird of prey, is Komaeda. His eyes are focused on the sugary mess in front of him, though there’s no hint of frustration in his visage – more like… amusement.

He seems to be unfazed by Mikan’s nigh-constant stream of apologies, patiently plucking at the fluffy cloud, apparently trying to get the majority of it off before the inevitable washing.

“That’s some bad luck, the way you tripped over and got your hair stuck in that machine, you know – you should try and be more careful next time.”

“I’m sorry! I was just so glad that you were talking to me and taking me to the amusement park and I forgot to watch my stupid clumsy feet and I fell, and now you’ll hate me…” she whimpered.

“Hate you? How could I ever hate someone like you? You’re an Ultimate, the kind of person that inspires _Hope!_ ”

A crack in his façade – he could hate her, and a possible reason surely came to his mind, but he hid the expression the moment it came. Tsumiki, turned away from him and too engrossed by her apologies and self-pity, didn’t even register the change.

“Oh, hey Peko!” he laughed, noticing me peering from some ways off, “I don’t suppose that sword of yours can cut this cotton candy away?”

I wanted to smirk, but no such expression came: “There are few things I cannot cut, Nagito.”

“That’s great! So you’re going to help us, right?”

Exhaling slower than usual, I nodded, drawing my bamboo sword as approached. They probably expected me to move into Komaeda’s spot, but I merely got in range, made my attack, and withdrew, wiping my sword of the sugary cloud before sheathing it once more.

They blinked at me in confusion, much like spectators often did, unable to comprehend how I could’ve possibly performed what was requested of me so flawlessly. In truth, the swings weren’t anywhere near flawless, as I’ve intentionally aimed wider to pick up the majority of the cotton candy, and my footwork was shoddier than normal due to the loose floorboards.

Yet, in their eyes, I’ve performed a miracle:

“Wow! That’s amazing, Peko!”

“M-my hair’s ok now? Is it all gone?”

“You will need to wash it, but yes,” I paused, “Why are you two here together?”

Curiosity, a trait I usually didn’t hold in high esteem. Yet, when brought to a place like this, it was stronger than me – I couldn’t help but feel curious about the island, about my classmates. Maybe it was a sign of the blessed change that was to come – maybe an omen of the ruinous path I was destined to walk.

“Nagito just asked me if I wanted to go to the amusement park with him,” Tsumiki began explaining, and I realize this is the first time I’ve seen her look relaxed, “I’ve never been on any of the rides, so I said yes.”

“So we did, but then I almost passed out because I forgot that my breakfast was basically bagels and OJ, so we decided to get something sugary, hence the cotton candy.”

“B-but, my hair fell in, and then I knocked the whole thing over, and it caught fire, and Nagito had to pour water all over it to put it out.”

“And I had to dodge her, because for some reason, she tried to get me to soak her as well…” he trailed off, expression revealing that he’s perfectly aware of what she’d tried to get him to do – Tsumiki was the picture of innocence, however.

“I just thought you’d wanted to wash someone as filthy as me!” she squealed, and I finally realized that there’s nothing more to gain from this conversation. More likely, though, is that there was nothing to gain from the beginning.

And yet… I still asked. Curious.

“I will see you at dinner,” I concluded, turning away and heading towards the exit.

Their chatter picked up once more, but I was far enough away that tuning it out was a viable option, the one I chose to entertain.

Despite their antics, I find people like Komaeda and Tsumiki to be inherently sad. Sure, they smile a lot and create situations others find amusing, but what’s that if not the expression of their loneliness?

Lonely souls, drowned in so much self-loathing and depression that even genuine, honest help doesn’t do as a lifeline… I do hope they find what they’re looking for.

I do hope I find what _I’m_ looking for, whatever that ends up being.

 


	7. Bacon

**Mahiru**

An oversized fly lands on the window, and I feel my nose crinkle in annoyance – I was really getting into the zone for a moment. With a half-hearted sigh, I wave a severely-outdated photography magazine at it, looking away from the glass for the first time in a long while, watching as the bloated thing lazily disappears somewhere behind the counter.

In a perfect world it’d stay there until the end of days, but alas… Heck, the magazine is so damn old it features _Mark Jefferson’s_ work. Talk about ancient…

Maybe I’m just being sour. Maybe failing to come up with a way to get that damn calendar done is getting to me. What kind of weirdo asks for a swimsuit calendar, anyway? A perv, that’s who…

But it’s not like I can just back out. I make a point of keeping my word once I give it, regardless of how careless and naïve I was at the time… and besides, Hanamura _is_ keeping his end of the bargain – we had to fight over one of the flags for the war of the hotheads, and he _was_ quite straight about it.

At some point, I’ll just have to grit my teeth and go out there demanding people get into their swimsuits and pose for me… Wow, even in my head, that sounds horrible.

Maybe I could ask Ibuki? She does kind of owe me for the whole ‘gentleman’ thing… Jeez, I don’t know how I survived _that much_ running about… Then again, that feels like a cop-out, like I’m being lazy about it.

I mean… Nagito doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who does things like his ‘wager’ without thinking them through. I saw it when I took his photo when he was leaving the market – there was this interesting mix of melancholy and determination on his face, and there’s really only one other circumstance that gets people to make faces like that...

Banish the thought. Like I need a reminder of mum’s photos right now; I’ve enough to worry about, what with the random school trip and damn wager, and…

Gah! I’m going in circles!

What am I even doing in the diner? I thought I’d find somewhere quiet… and maybe stay there forever, since I’ll never get those pictures together. But it worked well enough until that annoying fly came in. I kind of lost myself in the flow of the clouds outside, drowsy from the sunlight…

Alright, enough dallying! I should go out, find Ibuki, and finally start working on this damn project!

“Huh? What are _you_ doing here?”

Or maybe not… maybe I could just duck under the table and pretend not to exist for a while…

“Hi, uh, Kuzuryu-san…”

They always look so damn _proper_. This guy and Togami both always look like they’re fresh from a business meeting, their clothes immaculate and spotless, nigh-perpetual scowls on their faces. They _do_ smile, it happens, but it’s not like they’re even near Ibuki or Hiyoko, who always seem to be ready with a beaming smile.

I… kind of envy that.

“Yeah,” he frowns, trying hard not to acknowledge my presence “hi.”

What’s his problem? Isn’t being the great _Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu_ enough for him?

Jeez, guys always have the exact same problem – no concern for anything other than themselves! Selfish to a fault, and not one of them seems to regret it! Ugh!

“…”

I take a breath, deciding that replying in kind and ignoring him is the best thing I can do – I’ll just pretend I’m reading this magazine for a while longer, then slip out when he’s busy stuffing his face with bacon.

“Hey! How the fuck do I order food around here?”

The old news rise to the bottom half of my vision, a convincing enough cover, though my eyes stay focused on Kuzuryu. He leans against the counter, watching as Usami stumbles out of the kitchen, clad in professional chef’s clothes completely mismatched with the attire expected of a diner cook.

“Welcome! What’s your order?”

“Omelette. With bacon.”

What’s he doing here, anyway? The hotel has enough food, and I doubt he’s here for the spirit of the American 50’s.

My focus persists for a while longer, broken only by the uncomfortable sensation of the sun searing my skin. I try my best to ignore it, but it ends up being too much:

“Damn it!”

Immediately, his pale green eyes are on me. A look of profound annoyance is clear on his face, like my mere presence is an affront to his experience of a cheap diner omelette – gee, sorry I exist, Mr. _Kuzuryu_. I really hope my existence isn’t _bothering_ you…

Jeez, it’s always like this. Whenever something’s wrong, they’ll just make sure they’re not bothered, and to hell with everyone else’s needs. People other than _you_ exist, Fuyuhiko, and you should be more concerned with finding and talking to that lovely girl that idolizes you than you should be with your damn breakfast food!

“WHAT?” is my response. To be honest, though, I should’ve kept a cooler head…

He blinks, his brow furrowing a bit. Then, it comes:

“What the **fuck** is wrong with you, you obnoxious bitch? I just came here to get a fucking bite to eat, and you’re eyeing me from behind that stupid magazine like some low-budget gumshoe! What the hell do you want from me, huh!?”

“I don’t want anything from you!” I shouted, arms crossed, the photography magazine flying off indignantly, “just leave me alone!”

“Leave **you** alone!?” he freaked, his plate sliding across the table and shattering into a dozen pieces; a sad, floppy piece of bacon stuck out, pinched between two chunks of ceramic:

“I’m not gonna take crap from some chick whose name I don’t even know!”

“…”

He… doesn’t know my name?

But, didn’t I introduce myself to Peko and him on our first day here? How could he forget?

Or maybe… maybe he just concluded it’s not worth the bother…

It’s not like I’m some gentle flower that needs protecting – I might be ‘plain’ when compared to the other Ultimate talents, but I have thick skin. Heck, after freaking from what was basically a kidnapping, I was pretty psyched to have a new environment to capture.

Still, this... I need to get out of here.

“What? Leaving…?” he trailed off, “Are you serious?”

I flinch. The tone of his voice changed so jarringly, I couldn’t help but stop halfway through storming out; that high-strung swear-heavy voice was now calm.

“Seriously, that’s _all_ it takes to get to you?”

He looks more amused than angry now, and I want to make up for the deficiency, but find it much harder than expected. This _matters_ to him; just a second ago he was saying that he didn’t bother to remember my name, and now I’m getting the impression that my opinion of him _matters_.

He’s probably just screwing with me, trying to bait me in just before another telling off – he’s the Ultimate Yakuza, after all. Messing with people’s heads must be a daily thing for someone like that…

“What do you care?” I huff, turning on my heel, “You can’t be bothered to know my _name_!”

He jerks back like I actually swung at him or something, but quickly regains his composure:

“Look, it’s not what I wanted, ok? I thought we’d be getting off this island, and that I didn’t need to talk to anyone here.”

“Because we’re beneath you?”

“Jesus, fuck! Doesn’t anyone on this fucking island ever listen? I’m telling you I was fucking _wrong_.”

“And that makes it all better, somehow?”

He shakes his head. For the first time, I notice a real expression on his face. Instinctually, I raise my camera and capture the moment – I don’t even register doing so until I notice the once again furious look in his eyes.

“What the hell!? Are you trying to piss me off!?”

No, I just…

“…”

He kicks at the scattered bits of his plate, sending a bit careening into the corner. He readjusts his collar three times in quick succession, never really taking his eyes off of me.

As for me, I just stand there, dumbfounded, like a deer caught in headlights. I’m vaguely aware that I could just leave, but it’s like seeing the horizon line from a train window – you see it, and that’s it. Drops of sweat are slowly rolling down my neck, and I swipe them away almost absently, making no effort to get out of the direct sunlight.

“Look… I’m sorry,” he says, eyes dead-serious, “I’m good at hurting people, even when I don’t want to.”

“Good for you,” I reply, feeling like I can move again.

“Save your stupid remarks,” he frowns, “I promised myself I’d do things differently, and I fucked that promise up; I don’t like fucking up.”

I fail to find a witty comeback. His words are genuine, and I realize that I want to hear him out – maybe even someone like the _Ultimate Yakuza_ can genuinely smile…

“It’s alright…” I sigh, “and my name is Koizumi-”

“Relax,” he cuts me off with a smirk, “I was just fucking with you about the name, _Mahiru_.”

Well, isn’t he the smartass…

“Why would you make a promise like that? You’re not happy with who you are?”

He shakes his head:

“It’s not about me… not entirely. I just need to prove I _can_ do it, and then things may as well go back to the way they were.”

“But… that won’t happen. Nothing stays the same forever.”

It’s why I like taking pictures so much – catching something as it is in _only_ that moment, never to be repeated again. So, in a way, I can understand where he’s coming from, if only because I’m standing on the exact opposite side of the issue.

“Yeah, well… I want to try. Even if I fuck up, at least I can say I fucking tried, right?”

He’s looking at me like I’m the one with the answer, and then it hits me.

My whole freak out about the calendar… someone unique, the _Ultimate Yakuza_ , has the same sort of problem I do, just on a bigger scale. Maybe we’re not so different; maybe being an Ultimate isn’t some kind of stigma. It’s just a word, right?

I’ll never be the only one struggling with these things – my classmates… my _friends_ will always be there to help me deal, whether intentionally or not. I can’t help but smile.

“Jeez... I can’t believe someone like you worries about something like that…”

He seems to take offence at that, crashing back down to his seat, throwing his legs up on the table:

“Yeah? Well, then, fuck you too.”

There’s no bite to his words, not like before. I feel like, despite all the shouting, I grew a bit closer with Fuyuhiko… A part of me wants to help him own up to his word however I can, but right now I have my promise to keep.

I’m taking those fucking photographs if it’s the last thing I do!


	8. Ibuki Wants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allergy season medication gives me insomnia, and insomnia me writes insane scenes that try to be funny AND emotional AND spicy - I'm not even sorry.
> 
> I swear I'll start actually advancing the plot at some point.

**Ibuki**

Ibuki’s back in front of the regal door, fingertips trembling with excitement and anticipation. Byakuya-chan won’t refuse me this time, no sir!

Ibuki’s case is ready – Ibuki will demand to promenade with Byakuya-chan, and she’ll be told that he’s too busy with something else… But that’s when Ibuki offers to help with whatever else stands in the way of her rom… of her conquest!

Yes, he might be heir to the largest conglomerate in the east, but Ibuki’s rapid-fire tactics of altruism, cuteness and pizazz will overwhelm him with a one-two-three combo! The promenade will be secured!

Now, the only thing that separates me from my goal is an inch of door, and Ibuki knows the door’s weakness – the magical spell _knock!_

“What is it now?” it opens before I can touch it.

“…”

Yie! Anticipated! Quick, plan C!

“Ibuki’s terror prevents her from replying!”

For the record, Ibuki didn’t like plan C all that much. Even though C stands for _cool_ , which Byakuya-chan is, so it should be a shoe-in… shoo-in? Shoo! Shoe?

“Thinkthinkthink…”

Honesty is the best policy, after all! Only with a pure heart can the blushing maiden fetch the gentleman’s eye… maybe with a short skirt, too. I’m flexible on that point.

But wouldn’t someone like that be more interested in someone regal and elegant, like Princess Sonia-chan? Ibuki’s not regal! I’m rough’n’thimble!

_Tumble_ , tumble’s the word! Bad Ibuki, thinking about short skirts and Sonia-chan!

“I see…” his lip curves into a smirk, “I assume this is about that _Ultimate Fun_ you mentioned?”

Ok, Ibuki’s full-panicking now. The S.S Ibuki’s going down, abandon ship… Wait, no, don’t abandon ship! Ibuki needs to see where this ship will take her, I can’t give up, not yet!

“Maximum think! Nngh…”

He appraises Ibuki with great care, bringing his pointing finger to his chin and nodding:

“Very well, since you clearly want to see this done, it’d be wisest to just go along. Let’s go.”

But Ibuki’s convincing monologue… I almost had it!

“No fair! Byakuya-chan makes everything work too good, Ibuki can’t keep up!”

“Unacceptable!” he exclaims, pointing an accusing finger: “you’ll engage someone like me without a carefully prepared strategy? Are you mad!?”

Ugh, Ibuki’s heart is thump-thump-thump-thumping! Too many thumps! I’m going to thum-plode!

But I can’t! Ibuki mustn’t ruin Byakuya-chan’s beautiful white suit with the red flower on the lapel! It’d be the biggest, most despair-inducing event in history!

“You look ghastly pale…”

Wait… flower on the lapel…

“WH-WH-WHAAAT!?”

He steps back, but I step forward. He frowns at that, so then I step back as well; this gets no frown, so Ibuki counts it an overall win. As a bona fide rock star, Ibuki prides herself on her ability to pick up on subtle social cues, and also the not subtle ones, those too.

Glasses are adjusted as Byakuya recovers from the LOUD shriek, and the thump-thumping just keeps getting worse. If this keeps going on like this, Ibuki’s going to go deaf on the inside!

“I understand… you’re simply amazed that you can continue to function in such close proximity to me, is that it? Don’t worry, I’ve attuned myself to most commoners.”

“Hey! Ibuki’s a common uncommoner, and she takes offense to that!”

Wow, Ibuki’s shocked and awed that he can just look past her freak-out like that, that’s so _cool_ … but now I have to say something in reply to his assurance, and… oh, wait, should I have thought this before speaking?

“As is your right,” Byakuya-chan nods, radiating calm and collected and just a smidge of hungry, “c’mon, now, we won’t find that fun by standing around in front of my bungalow.”

Yes, finally, motion! Ibuki can motion, rapidly if necessary. One must be swift and agile if they’re to shred on the electric guitar while walking across a tightrope, after all.

“So, whatcha gonna get to eat?”

“Well, I was thinking of getting some bacon and…”

“Woah! Does Byakuya-chan know that pork has ten times the energy value of any commonly available meat? 10 times! That’s way more than two, and a bit more than nine!”

“Did I… did I, she asks…”

We come to a stop in front of Gundham-chan’s bungalow, like 12 steps from where we started, but the heat of the moment is only matched by the fire in Byakuya-chan’s eyes! Ibuki feels her knees go weak, arms go heavy…

“Were we not stuck on this remote island, Mioda, I would personally take you to the finest restaurants and ensure you’re acquainted with the delicacy of perfectly prepared meat! I **cannot** abide knowing that someone I know lives their lives in ignorance of the finest things!”

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, right? His passion is blazing, just like Ibuki’s when she hears Canon in D… being so close when he takes command of Ibuki’s attention with intense oration and blazing passion to ensure the safety and wellbeing of everyone... it makes Ibuki kind of hot.

There’s no thinking, just act. The glum and fearsome door of Gundham-chan’s bungalow can’t stand against the force of Ibuki’s desire; Togami-chan is tacked to the bed with no effort.

Byakuya-chan might be bigger than Ibuki, but he’s slow to react at first; Ibuki picks the flower from his chest with her teeth, grinning with mischief on her mind. She hears something about propriety and trespassing, but she can’t _really_ hear it over the THUMPTHUMPTHUMP of her own heart.

Breathing goes quick like the heart, and the flower drops to the floor as Ibuki does what she wanted to do since she heard the word 'go'; his lips are soft and he neither rebukes Ibuki, nor does he take control of the kiss.

“Mioda, stop this!” he speaks, but his voice rings with acceptance in Ibuki's ears. Ibuki's ears might be biased, however.

Ibuki knows how fast Togami-chan can be when he wants to. If he wants to, he can outrun Ibuki, leave her alone and rejected in Gundham-chan’s bungalow; Byakuya-chan won’t do that, though – he’s the Ultimate Gentleman, he won’t break Ibuki’s heart.

“I won’t be denied! Ibuki has no doubts that this is what she wants!”

Buttons give way before fingerpicking fingers, and Ibuki’s shirt goes off flying; the pink ribbon stays, though. Ibuki likes her pink ribbon, and Byakuya-chan likes it too, she thinks. His body seems to like it, at least.

Ibuki advances, not quickly, but not slow enough to break the magic either.

“You don’t need to do this!” he huffs, backing up to the wall; Ibuki’s closing in:

“I said I’d protect you all, you don’t need to try and seduce me to get me to keep that promise, damn it!”

“…”

“Eh?”

He sits up straight, correcting the glasses knocked askew by Ibuki’s rush. Although Ibuki expected eagerness, anger, or even disappointment, she didn’t expect Byakuya-chan to look _offended_.

“I know you’re worried, Mioda. Waking up on some island in the middle of nowhere must be scary… But I refuse to exploit you when you’re merely acting out of fear and loneliness. I swear on my name as a Togami that I’ll make sure we all get home safe, alright?”

Even with all this… Byakuya’s worried about me? About whether he’d be exploiting me? But… I was the one who started it, how can he..?

I stand up, no more thinking:

“This isn’t a knee-jerk reaction, Byakuya... I acted because I sensed the opportunity to act on my own desires – primarily the one that concerns getting to know you, the _real_ you, without the fancy suit and dry attitude, without the song you play for everyone to drown out the real you.”

I want to know the man whose first instinct is to protect people he didn’t even know; I know I want that. Despite Ibuki’s own musical thoughts, there’s no doubt that this… attack, is what I want to happen. But maybe that’s not fair, maybe Ibuki should keep her word and make it _Ultimate Fun_. Make sure Byakuya-chan is as comfortable with this as Ibuki is? Yes, that would be good, it'd be kind, like Byakuya is.

“How can you..?”

Now he’s surprised. I grin:

“You stay right there, ok? Ibuki’s going to get us something to really get you in the mood, and then we’ll continue where we left off!”

And as I say that I’ll do, I do.

* * *

**Gundham**

I take off the technological headphones as I finish up the morning grooming of the last of the Four Dark Devas of Destruction. Their thunderous wrath, cleverly concealed behind expressions of contentment, roars out in my mind as a sign that my feeble power is allowed to exist in their presence one more day.

Once I step outside of the washroom, however, I’m faced with the large one, the man of great affluence and greater ability. He has taken up position on the one place I find most comfortable to rest this mortal body!

“What is the meaning of this? Your ill-conceived plot to steal my power will fail, fool!”

“What the… you’re _here_?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, cur! What are you doing in my abode!?”

I’ve made the mistake of forgetting. Byakuya is a man of large body but few words; he need only point to an article of clothing that doesn’t belong in my room, and the picture paints itself in my mind. A vivid picture, of a ritual I am quite familiar with. Fortune smiles on this man.

“I see…”

I inquire with the Devas as to their outlook on the developing situation. Is this some test, to see whether I can cooperate with these weak beings? Is it a test of my animal instinct to protect territory? Choosing poorly would spell doom not only for my own mortal form, but the whole world!

“Goodbye,” I say, deciding, and leave my abode behind.

Not long after, I cross paths with the musician, shirtless and carrying roughly half the provisions that are summoned for us on the restaurant table in the morning. I shudder in the presence of whatever demon is driving her to such extreme behavior, resolving to one day banish it, once this puny physical form is brought to the same level as my mystical might.

I avoid going back to the abode for a good three hours. When I return, it’s as if they were never there.


End file.
